My Lesbia, you want to know how manykisses would be enough to satisfy me?As many as the many grains of sandin silphium-rich Cyrene, which liebetween the shrine of Jupiter in heatand the most hallowed sepulchre of Battus. As many as the stars in still of nightwatching the furtive lovemakings of men.Only to get from you that many kisseswould satisfy your aching, mad Catullus,a number far beyond the reckoningsof busybodies or the tongue of envy.